


Fried Oreos for the Winchester’s Soul

by Winnie_Chester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Las Vegas, M/M, Unrequited Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 12:38:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2622065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winnie_Chester/pseuds/Winnie_Chester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has been down lately, so Dean tries to cheer him up.</p><p> </p><p>Still set in my unrequited Sam/Dean, Angsty Sam world, but something lighter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fried Oreos for the Winchester’s Soul

Sam woke up slowly, pleasantly, to the sound of rain on the car’s windows. He was in the front seat, his head resting on a sweatshirt balled up between him and the passenger door. He’d awakened exactly like this a hundred times. For the span of that warm, blank moment between sleep and wakefulness he was content, as close as he ever got to happy. 

It felt like a million years since he’d been happy.

But then little aches in his back and neck started to make themselves known, and he had to open his eyes. The car wasn’t moving, and it wasn’t raining, either. Dean had pulled them into a self-service car wash and was so absorbed in sluicing highway grit off the car that he didn’t notice Sam was awake. 

Washing the car was one of Dean’s favorite things to do. He loved running his hands over her, relished in making her sparkle again. At first Sam was pissed at being left in the car like a dog, but he tamped that down as he watched Dean work, obviously enjoying himself. Dean was stripped down to just his undershirt and was humming something under his breath, smiling at the car as he worked on the grill. Sam thought maybe this was as close as Dean ever got to happy, too. 

Sam opened the door and unfolded himself from the car. 

“How long have I been asleep?” Sam asked, yawning and stretching out the kinks that were inevitable after folding his 6’4” frame into anything. 

“Since about Phoenix. We made it to the motel but you seemed like you needed the sleep, so I pulled back out and decided to give Baby a wash while you caught some more Zs.”

Dean hadn’t been wrong—Sam had been having trouble sleeping anywhere but the car lately. Sam felt guilty for his earlier uncharitable thoughts.

“Uh, yeah I did. Thanks.” Sam gestured towards the hose. “Need any help?” 

“Nah, I got it.” Dean sprayed down the front of the car and began to work on the driver’s side. 

Sam fingered his phone and wondered idly if he should put it back in the safety of the car—it hadn’t happened in ages, but it wasn’t unheard of for car washing to turn into an absolutely brutal Winchester water fight. But he figured he was probably safe; they hadn’t checked in yet and trying to do so soaking wet would call too much attention. He couldn’t decide if he was relieved he wouldn’t have to see his brother in a wet t-shirt and jeans or disappointed. 

“So, are we staying at The Western again?” They were in Las Vegas, ostensibly to look into a haunting at Circus Circus. The Western was Dean’s favorite motel in Vegas, due to his enthusiasm for their bingo room, a two word phrase Sam couldn’t utter without rolling his eyes. 

“You know it!” Dean called cheerfully from somewhere near the back tires. 

Sam sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets, irritated to find that he had yet again forgotten to fix the hole in the left. He leaned against the stall. He hated that he was always a little vaguely irritated these days.

Sam figured he should probably have a look at the case again, but he was fairly certain they were chasing nothing more than a bored old man’s tall tale. He hadn’t been able to find anything about three people killed in the kitchens on the same night, and that was usually the kind of thing that would have been fairly widely reported. He’d spent most of yesterday morning trying to get Dean to turn around, but they didn’t have anything better to do, and Dean had been both vehement and in possession of the keys, so here they were. 

Dean could be a controlling dick like that sometimes. 

Dean didn’t really think there was a case either, but Vegas had meant a two day drive his brother could sleep on and maybe a chance to cheer him up, too, so he’d leapt at the opportunity. Sam hadn’t been eating much lately either, and was looking sort of drawn, so Dean was also looking forward to forcing a few all you can eat buffets on him. 

Sam didn’t realize Dean had noticed that, too. 

Dean had long ago figured out that whatever Sam’s demons were, he couldn’t fix them, so he’d had to settle for making whatever things better he could. Feed the kid, make him sleep, try and win a smile. It felt like absolutely nothing, like a complete and utter failure of his mission, but it was the best he could do. So he tried. 

***

It didn’t take more than two hours to realize the hunt was a bust which was fine with Sam--though he wouldn’t have minded if they’d had to salt and burn all of Circus Circus and every goddamn clown in it-- and was exactly what Dean had been hoping for. 

By the time they slid back into the newly washed Impala, which the valets had allowed them to leave right out front after Dean had shown them his FBI badge and made threatening allusions to federal prison if they so much as touched her, it was only seven.

“Drink? Poker? 99 cent deep-fried Oreos? ” Dean asked, settling in behind the wheel. 

Sam made a face. “Um, certainly not the last one.” 

Dean pulled out of the casino and started to head downtown. “Mermaid’s Casino snack bar it is!”

“Goddamn it, Dean! No!”

Mermaid’s was dirty and smoky and nothing on the menu cost more than $3. Sam had bitched the entire way there about it, theorizing that they would probably find a hunt there, as only a monster could look at something like an Oreo and try and come up with a way to make them more unhealthy, but he ate the two hot dogs Dean ordered for him, half of the deep fried twinkie and one of the Oreos anyway. It sort of almost felt like a vacation, and Sam felt himself unwinding a little bit. 

Dean was going on about the odds in the casino and weighing the pros and cons of poker and blackjack against finding a good pool hall and he had powered sugar all over his lips and down his shirt. Sam wasn’t really listening so much as just drinking his beer and watching Dean’s lips move, and he thought _This. This is why I do it._

Dean did the job to save people, and Sam cared about that part too, but it was these little moments of downtime that he lived for. These were the things he’d missed the most at school, these were the moments worth saving the world for. 

Dean was winding down his monologue when Sam leaned over and grabbed another one of the Oreos, ignoring his brother’s smug, self-satisfied face.

Everything that had been wrong was still wrong, but suddenly it felt a little bit lighter. 

“Come on,” Sam finished his beer and grabbed the keys off the table. “We don’t need to hustle tonight. Let’s go back and I’ll kick your ass at bingo.”


End file.
